


A Dream of Spring

by LovelyLilith



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-10
Updated: 2016-07-10
Packaged: 2018-07-22 15:37:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 418
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7444555
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LovelyLilith/pseuds/LovelyLilith
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Spoilers for Season 6!</p><p>A raven arrives with news from King’s Landing.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Dream of Spring

That morning a raven from King's Landing had arrived. Jon and Sansa were sitting in the Great Hall discussing how they would prepare for the winter to come. Sansa had read the letter out loud for everyone to hear; Westeros had a new queen, Cersei Lannister. Which could only mean one thing, Margaery was no longer alive. Sansa could feel the tears forming in her eyes and all she wanted to do was to scream but she was not a little child anymore. She was Lady Stark now, she had to be strong. After she had finished reading the letter she could hear Jon asking her if she was alright, placing a hand on her shoulder. Sansa nodded but excused herself, she needed some air.

She went to the godswood, even if she had given up praying it was still her favorite place and it helped her think. She reached for the old dried out rose Margaery had given her, she had kept it close to her not able to throw it away and for that she was happy, it was all she had left of the sweet girl. She remembered their swift touches, the way her lips used to linger on her cheek and how wonderful it had been when they had finally kissed. She sat there until the cold entwined her whole body, it made her feel less human and that made it easier to deal with the pain.

"Who was she?" He had asked later that evening at supper. "A dream of spring." Was all she said and it had been the truth. It wasn't love, not really but Margaery had been kind and gentle. Now all that remained was a memory of what could have been if things had gone differently, if the Gods had been kinder but none of that mattered now. A rose would have never survived the winter to come, she told herself, and neither would the lions.

At night she felt the darkness embrace her as she sat on a throne made of ice and a lion pelt around her shoulders. Once she had dreamt of ladies and knights, her life a sweet song, now all she dreamt of was blood and vengeance, like the stories old nan used to tell them when they were little. My skin has turned to porcelain, to ivory, to steel. She told herself repeatedly as she prayed once more that winter would come for all her enemies and this time the gods would listen.


End file.
